Ripped Away
by Jake Caldefore
Summary: Alex Rider, emotions, guns, school, Scorpia, MI6, SAS, and dead people. What more could you want? Rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. I'm sorry for not updating _Blood Bonding. _My dad was in a car crash a week ago, and he's…pretty beat up. He broke two bones and sprained his wrist. Nothing too bad though, other than a mild concussion. I'm probably not going to update in a while, and if I do, it's probably going to be short.

Disclaimer: You cold-hearted freak. Why do I need one?

This is just an idea. Please tell me if you like it. I might continue it.

Enjoy. Wish my dad the best of luck.

* * *

Alex pointed the gun at the man in the dark mask. The hall was silent. The only sound heard was the heavy panting and whimpers. A man and a boy had come to square off. And an audience that included the whole school was watching them too.

Whoop-de fucking-do.

The man broke the tense silence and spoke calmly through the black mask. "So, dear Alex. Do you want to say it, or should I do the honours?"

No answer.

The man chuckled. Or at least, attempted to. He wheezed a few moments before continuing, turning to the school's staff and students. "I'll take that as a no. Now, then, I guess we should start from your first mission with MI6…Stormbreaker, was it?"

"Shut up." The voice had no emotion. Just cold, hard steel. Quiet but deadly, like a knife. "I'll shoot."

"Ah, but Alex!" The man spun around quickly, a blur of black clothing. "Don't you remember the last time you tried to shoot somebody? Mrs. Jones?" He laughed again; it came out as a cough. "You were off. You miscalculated. Missed your target. We can't afford to make mistakes. And do you know what we do to people who make mistakes in this business?"

He leaned forward, waiting anxiously for the answer.

None.

"Well, Alex. We kill them. Ah, yes, gruesome it may be, but it is _indeed_ most effective!" He raised his voice. "And you, dear Alex, are a _failure._" The hissed words echoed off the poster-ridden white walls.

Alex gripped the Walther PPK – equipped with an unneeded silencer – tightly. He willed it to not shake in his grasp. If he his hand trembled – even in the slightest – it would show fear, and showing fear was a _very_ bad thing in this deadly game of cat and mouse.

"A failure? I think not. I haven't failed anything, except…" Alex's voice wandered off. "Except being like everyone else…" he whispered.

Memories exploded through his head. He remembered the laughter of joking with his friends, teasing the younger kids in the lower years, daring each other to ask a girl out. He remembered playing football and worrying over pop quizzes and exams. He remembered attending big parties, surfing at the beach. Chatting. Eating lunch. Not doing homework.

The pistol slipped from his grasp. Almost in slow-motion, the short handgun clattered noisily to the floor. Alex's fingers were still locked in place, his eyes glazed over and staring into the distance. He body was still and tense.

The man's voice jeered, "See? Another mistake. My, my, Alex! Slipping now, are we?" He sounded like he was scolding a small child. He turned around and began his long story about Alex Rider.

Alex said nothing, nor did he do anything. He just sat down, arms wrapped around his legs, head bowed. The gun lay discarded on the cold tile floor beside him.

The seemingly tall-tale was surprisingly long. It lasted a little less than half of an hour. Of course, it would be longer with all the little details thrown in.

Silence. Many people were sobbing into each other's shoulders or dripping with silent tears. Many pitied Alex, others hated him. The man had manipulated the story to have it fit his own twisted way.

The damage was done.

"Alex…" Tom called softly. Unshed tears glistened in his eyes. "Alex…" He stepped slowly forward, out of the crowd. The man let him pass. He knew what he was doing. If any problems occurred, he'd shoot. The whole building was under his control.

Tom kneeled next to Alex, who didn't respond. He put his hand on his best friend's back and started to rub his back, looking at him with pleading eyes to detect any flicker response.

Alex lifted his head, not looking at Tom, but at the cloaked man. He just glared and glared, his eyes hard and cold. Eventually he spoke.

"You bastard."

The man didn't do anything, just turned back to look at him. He suddenly sighed, and asked something that surprised them all.

"I know, Alex. I know I am."

The mysterious man proceeded to talk. His voice was raspy, like sandpaper, almost as if he hadn't drank anything for many days. He asked a question.

"Alex, dear boy, do you know who I am?"

Alex shook his head no.

"Do you want to know?"

Alex nodded his head yes.

The man seemed to contemplate the teenager's answer for a moment, and then nodded, as if answering himself. He grabbed the hem of his hood and pulled it over his head.

Alex gasped, eyes widening. The next words his whispered so softly that many people barely heard it.

"Ian Rider."

* * *

Cliffhanger. Once again, please tell me what you think, and if I should continue or not.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! I think that by now you've all heard about my dad. He's doing okay now; he's in Physical Therapy… Boy oh boy have I not updated in a _looong_ time. I'm really sorry!

**AMAZING!! WOW!! SPECTACULAR!!**

No, really! I mean, 25 ALERTS, 6 FAVS, and 27 FREAKIN' REVIEWS?! For one measly chapter? YOU GUYS ROCK!!

And now for something completely different: answering community questions! These are questions that I answer right here, and everyone can see them just in case they were wondering the same thing. Here goes!

Smelly Cat710: No, no slash! I hate slash! (No, I'm for gay rights though.)

cricketchick1990/mystery gal: You never know…

liz22463: Thank you! I'm keeping that in mind as I write this chapter. As for beta-ing, I'm going to wait a while.

Jusmine/PrincessOfTheDevi/destinystar105l: You'll see…

BellaBooTwilight: Ah, yes! This is the part where I explain that I'm grabbing the reader's attention so I can add in details later. Thank you for letting me clarify!

Going to be a bit short.

Disclaimer: Alex Rider does not own me or vise versa.

* * *

Dead silence. Then, spontaneously, everyone started to whisper and talk in scared, hushed tones.

"Ian Rider? Isn't that his uncle?" "I thought he was dead!" "Oh, my god…what's happening?" "I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming…" "It's not true! His uncle's dead!"

The voices buzzed like pesky flies, but Alex paid no heed. He glared daggers at the man in front of him.

"So that's it?" he called, and stood up, his weakness forgotten. Anger blazed like a fire in his mature eyes. The entire student body was watching him, aghast. What did he mean, _that's it?_ Had he really been through worse?

"Are you like Ash? Are you a double-crosser too? Have you betrayed me like everyone else has? Sure, my father 'worked' for Scorpia, but he was still on the good side! Are you another problem in my life I have to deal with on my own?" Alex spat.

"Ah, but Alex, is MI6 _really_ the good side? What has our government been doing, stealing money just to fund for weapons and destruction? They're taking money out of education. They're destroying _lives, _Alex. _Lives!_ Is Scorpia just as bad as MI6?" Alex noticed that he hadn't said, "Are we just as bad as MI6?" Maybe, just maybe, there was still some hope left.

Alex didn't answer, but asked one question that made his uncle pause. "Then who are you? Are you good or are you bad?"

His words echoed dully off the walls, bouncing into peoples' ears. Teachers looked on with worry, tears gleaming in their eyes as students cried and trembled.

Ian looked at him, almost like he was seeing him for the first time. He waited, as if contemplating how to answer.

Slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child, he said, "If I told you, I would either be thinking too highly of myself or too lowly."

Alex was undeterred by his answer though. Sneering, he returned the serve (1), "That proves just how self-centered you are, you bastard."

Ian sighed, shaking his head. "No, Alex, I never meant for this to happen. I – "

"You what? You just spilled my big secret! How can I forgive you for all the pain and trouble you caused me?" With those words, he abruptly scooped his gun up and turned the safety off again. He raised it up until it was pointing directly at Ian's head. The innocents whimpered in fear. They hadn't seen Alex like this before. One moment broken, the next all fixed up and deadly.

"They taught you well." It wasn't a question.

"Only you would know." The two were flinging knives at each other. (1)

Ian shook his head again. "No, Alex. You've got it all wrong. I was forced by a secret triad to come here and seek you out. Alex, I never wanted this to happen to you! Don't you understand?" By the end, he was shouting, tears forming at his eyes.

Alex was the only one who wasn't crying, or at least on the verge of tears. He kept his pistol steady and asked briskly, "Who sent you?"

"Alex, I'd really want to tell you, but I don't know."

"You don't know? You are a sorry excuse for a man. How can you not even know what organization you are working for?"

"I told you, Alex. I was forced to. They didn't even tell me their names! I was kept in a highly guarded facility. I wouldn't have known even if I had wanted to!"

"And did you?"

"Come…come again?"

"I said, did you want to know?"

"Why, Alex – "

"Answer these questions first, you old fool. Why couldn't you contact MI6, and how did you pull it off? I went to your funeral, I saw the body. Answer me!" His voice was heavily laced with venom. Those who heard whimpered in fear.

Ian didn't answer.

Alex laughed harshly. "You know what, Ian? Your performance was always spotty. Your record was smudged. (1) Your falling behind in our world, the world filled with violence and terror. I've seen things that I shouldn't have. Why? Can you answer that at least?"

Ian shook his head and looked away. The students were staring wide-eyed at Alex and Ian, the exchange of words sending their hearts hammering in their chests. A couple teachers held each other for support. Ms. Bedforshine was looking at Alex sympathetically and was crying into a tissue_. How young this boy was to be asking these kinds of questions that even adults would never dream of asking…_

Something extraordinary happened just then. Ian dashed forward so quickly that not even Alex could react and ripped the gun from his hand, before jumping back to avoid a kick to the head.

Just as Alex moved forward to punch him, he shifted his body and amidst all the chaos, pulled the trigger. The bullet buried itself deep into Alex's leg and he collapsed to the linoleum floor.

* * *

(1) Random analogies…

'Kay, please review!


	3. Important

This is Monica, Jake's friend. Jake asked me to contact everyone. Jake is very ill and he says that he has other duties to fulfill before he can continue with his other activities.

Jake asks you all not to worry about him, though I think everyone should pitch in and help cheer him up by sending him a message or picture. I'm sure he'd really appreciate your guys' help.

Pray while we're still here,  
Monica R.


End file.
